


just a bartender

by xlightless



Category: Highlight | Beast (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Romance, just some old fashioned fluff, there's literally nothing special about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xlightless/pseuds/xlightless
Summary: There’s nothing special about being a bartender, Dongwoon thinks to himself as he wipes a shot glass clean. Decent pay. Not so decent hours. He always thinks it could be worse, though.A young man comes up to the bar, sitting himself in the stool in front of Dongwoon.





	just a bartender

There’s nothing special about being a bartender, Dongwoon thinks to himself as he wipes a shot glass clean. Decent pay. Not so decent hours. He always thinks it could be worse, though.

A young man comes up to the bar, sitting himself in the stool in front of Dongwoon.

“Hey, Mr. Bartender, I’d like your strongest drink,” he says, his voice low and a poor attempt at being sultry; it’s too slurred to be considered even close to sultry. He gives Dongwoon a look that he thinks is probably supposed to be sexy, but it’s completely far from it.

Dongwoon places the shot glass on the display behind him and begins drying another. He saw the young man come in about an hour ago with a group of other guys. Dongwoon also saw him down five shots and several banana daiquiris.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve had enough to drink tonight.” Dongwoon hangs the towel on the rack by the sink and crosses his arms above his chest with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, Mr. Bartender,” the young man whines. He places his elbows on the counter, batting his long eyelashes, and Dongwoon notices black eyeliner just above his lashes, clean and sharp. “I am… _completely_ sober.”

Dongwoon fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay.” The young man pouts. Dongwoon plants his palms on the counter. “Where did your friends go?”

The young man scoffs and waves in the general direction of the dance floor. “Probably off to fuck some twinks. Even though this was _supposed_ to be _my_ night.”

Dongwoon raises his eyebrows. “Oh really? What’s the occasion?”

The young man looks at Dongwoon with a proud smile. “I got accepted into med school.”

“Well, congratulations,” Dongwoon says. He leans back and begins to dry another glass.

“So, _that’s_ why,” the young man pauses, his words apparently lost in the alcohol, “you should give me your strongest drink.”

Dongwoon almost laughs. Sly, but not sly enough. “You gotta try harder than that, babe.”

He’s pouting again.

Dongwoon honestly couldn’t care less. Sure, he’s paying for another drink, but he’d rather not be sued if the guy hurts himself. He’s poor enough as it is.

“You really won’t give me another drink?” he asks after a minute.

“No,” Dongwoon replies.

The young man rests his chin in an open palm. “Okay, fine, whatever.”

Dongwoon stares at him for a moment, then notices someone else approaching the bar. He glances at the young man, but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be moving any time soon. He walks to the other side of the bar.

“What can I get for you?”

//

It’s almost closing time and the young man is still sitting at the counter, but he’s fallen asleep.

Dongwoon sighs. What is he supposed to do? Where the hell did his friends go?

“Hey,” Dongwoon says with a sigh. He taps his shoulder, and he swats him away. “Dude. Hey, we’re closing now. You have to leave.”

The young man groans, turning his head away from Dongwoon.

Dongwoon sighs again. He’ll deal with him later. Right now, he needs to split up the tips, clean up the tables, take out the trash––

“Dongwoon.”

Dongwoon turns around and finds, Doojoon, his boss standing by the back. “Yeah?”

“Go take care of him,” his boss says, nodding to the young man whose cheek is currently pressed against the smooth counter.

“But––“

“I can clean up tonight,” Doojoon says. “Get him an Uber or something.”

Dongwoon nods. He unties his apron, hangs it in the back room, and gathers his things. When he goes back to the bar, the young man is still sleeping on the counter.

“Hey,” Dongwoon says, nudging his arm a little harder. “You gotta get home now. Come on, stand up.”

The young man mumbles something, his eyebrows furrowing. He doesn’t move otherwise.

It is three in the morning, and Dongwoon has worked since the bar opened at seven. He does not _need_ this kind of bullshit right now.

But he can’t just leave someone out like this.

Dongwoon lifts the young man’s arm up, grunting as he carries him out of the seat. He half-walks, half-stumbles, to the door and pushes it open into the chilled night air.

“Alright, what am I supposed to do?” Dongwoon mutters to himself. How could this guy’s friends just abandon him? Those are some pretty asshole-ish friends. Dongwoon nudges the young man with his elbow. “Hey, come on, you gotta wake up. How am I supposed to take you home if I don’t even know where you live? I’m not taking you to my apartment.”

The young man’s head rolls forward as he groans.

Although, it _is_ an option. Definitely a last resort, but still on the list.

//

Dongwoon walks into his apartment, throwing his keys and jacket on the table.

He thinks he got incredibly lucky when the young man’s friends actually came back to pick him up. They gave Dongwoon suspicious looks at first, but he explained that he meant no harm to any of them. They eased off a little bit, but they still looked only halfway convinced.

Dongwoon’s had his fair share of interesting customers, but this one was definitely the most interesting of the week.

When Dongwoon reaches his bedroom, he falls onto his bed, facing the ceiling. It’s dark in his room except for the faint glow from the streetlamp outside.

Is this how he’s going to spend the rest of his life? Making drinks in a bar downtown?

Is he really going to be just a bartender until he retires?

He closes his eyes, letting sleep take over him, too tired to even move.

//

A couple weeks pass before Dongwoon sees the young man again. He’s in a group of four other men, and they’re loud, but just barely enough to be heard over the music. It’s clear that they’re bar-hopping and that this isn’t even their first bar.

The young man meets eyes with Dongwoon and walks over to the bar with a smile on his face. He sits on a stool by the counter and puts his elbow on the top.

“So, we meet again, Mr. Bartender,” he says.

Dongwoon hums, but he smiles politely because a tip wouldn’t hurt. “What can I get for you?”

The young man shakes his head, glancing behind him at his friends sitting in a booth. “I’m done drinking for the night. I’m _just_ on the edge between tipsy and being too drunk, and I’d rather stay like this for the night. It’s always weird waking up the next morning and not remembering what happened the night before.” He points at Dongwoon. “ _But_ , I want to thank you for looking out for me that one night. Who knows what might have happened?”

“Someone could have raped you,” Dongwoon replies. “Mugged you. Probably.”

The young man throws his arms up in the air. “See, _that_ could have happened, but it didn’t because I had you to look out for me.”

“Please don’t make a habit of that,” Dongwoon replies, crossing his arms above his chest “I’m not your guardian angel, I’m just a bartender.”

The young man laughs. “You’re not a very cheerful one, are you?”

Dongwoon raises an eyebrow. “It’s called going through the motions.”

“Would it hurt you to liven up a bit?” the young man asks.

“What’s your name?” Dongwoon asks. He places his forearms on the counter and leans on them. Up close, he can see the golden flecks in the young man’s brown eyes reflecting the bar lights behind him. “I’d like to place a name to the guy I potentially saved.”

“Kikwang,” he replies with a grin.

Dongwoon leans back. “ _Just_ Kikwang?”

“Just Kikwang.” He examines something under his nails for a moment before looking up at Dongwoon. “And yours? As much as I like the nickname, I can’t just keep calling you Mr. Bartender.”

“Dongwoon.”

“ _Just_ Dongwoon?” Kikwang asks with a curious tilt of his head.

Dongwoon returns the smile. “Just Dongwoon.”

//

Kikwang comes back to the bar the next weekend.

And then the weekend after that.

And the one after that.

He doesn’t order anything, but he likes talking to Dongwoon whenever there’s a lull in the flow of customers. The most Dongwoon has seen Kikwang order is a tall mojito that took him about two hours to finish.

Dongwoon’s gotta admit, Kikwang has some amazing self-control when it comes to drinks.

It’s April, and all of the windows are open because the weather is finally getting warmer. A gentle breeze blows through, and Dongwoon is grateful for it because the AC is broken and he thinks he’d probably sue the bar for indecent working conditions. Or something along those lines.

“God, will you just _fuck off_?”

Dongwoon looks up to see Kikwang in the throngs of the crowd, standing up against an older man. Dongwoon’s face twists in disgust. He puts down the glass he’s drying and approaches them.

“I have a boyfriend!” Kikwang exclaims. His eyes are wide, but Dongwoon can see the anger burning in them.

The older man sneers. “Well, I don’t see him around.”

Dongwoon taps the man’s shoulder. He spins around, and in that moment, Dongwoon thinks the man looks a lot like a pig. “That’s because I’m right here, _dick_.”

The man scowls. “Wha––“

“If you’re going to be acting like an animal, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” Dongwoon says. He’s trying to be intimidating because, even with his own impressive height, the man in front of him is just so much taller and more threatening.

The man scowls again, spits at Dongwoon’s boots, and storms out of the bar. When the door swings closed, Dongwoon takes Kikwang’s hand and leads him to the bar.

“Hey,” Kikwang says as he hops onto one of the seats. “Are you _sure_ you’re not my guardian angel?”

Dongwoon grunts. He stares at the glistening spit on the toe of his boot and throws a wet dishrag on it. “No, and like I said before, don’t make a habit of it.”

“Thanks, though,” Kikwang says with a sigh.

Dongwoon rubs the dishrag on his boot with his other foot, then kicks it to the side. He’ll clean it up later. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Dongwoon,” Kikwang says, and Dongwoon _has_ to look up because he’s never heard Kikwang use a serious tone with him before. “I mean it.”

Dongwoon blinks. “And I mean it when I say it wasn’t a problem.”

“How can I make it up to you?” Kikwang asks.

“Really, it––“ And Kikwang just _glares_ at Dongwoon, and he closes his mouth.

 _Oh shit_ , he thinks. _He’s actually serious._

“How about a date?” Dongwoon asks with a grin. He doesn’t actually think Kikwang will actually agree because, well, he really doesn’t know, but he figured it was worth a shot.

Something sparks in Kikwang’s eyes, and he returns the grin. “Deal.”

Dongwoon’s mouth falls open. “Wait––“

Kikwang slides out of the bar stool and walks towards the door. “I’ll pick you up after work, okay?”

“I don’t get off until three in the morning!” Dongwoon exclaims after Kikwang. Several customers turn to look at him, but he ignores them as he circles around the counter. “Kikwang, you can’t be serious.”

Kikwang frowns, but Dongwoon catches an amused glint in his eyes. He takes the notepad and pen from Dongwoon’s pocket and scribbles something down. He rips the paper out and slips it into Dongwoon’s back pocket.

“Call me sometime, then,” Kikwang says, and then he’s out the door.

Dongwoon takes the paper and is partially surprised to see Kikwang’s phone number on it. When he turns around, he sees Doojoon grinning at him behind the counter.

//

Dongwoon realizes Kikwang didn’t need to give him his number because the week after that, at 2:49 AM, Kikwang walks through the door with a wide grin on his face.

Dongwoon stares at Kikwang, his eyes wide. He’s just finished cleaning up and was about to lock up. ”Um…”

“I told you I’d be here after work,” Kikwang says, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his hoodie. “Are you hungry?”

Dongwoon finds himself speechless because he thinks Kikwang is absolutely insane. “It’s almost 3! Why are you here? _Why_ are you still awake?”

Kikwang shrugs. “I finished studying and thought this would be a good time to come by.”

Dongwoon glances at his phone. “It’s 2:49 _AM_.”

“Yeah, and? I can’t go to sleep yet. I’m still running on Red Bull,” Kikwang replies with an easy shrug. “So, are you hungry or what?”

Dongwoon’s growling stomach answers for him.

“Okay. As soon as you’re done, we’re going,” Kikwang says, walking right past him to sit at the counter. “I know this place that’s open all night.”

//

Dongwoon sits across from Kikwang in a twenty-four hour western-style diner, waiting for their food. They’re the only people in the restaurant. Soft music plays from a speaker in the ceiling. The scent of grilling burgers wafts from the kitchen.

“Cute place,” Dongwoon says.

“I know the owner’s daughter,” Kikwang replies. He plays with the lemon in his water, poking it with the straw. “We graduated high school together.”

“Cute,” Dongwoon says. He’s teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness, and at this rate, he thinks he might just fall asleep before his food arrives. Usually, he isn’t so tired, but he had to deal with a lot more shitty customers than usual today. And then there was the bachelorette party that came in around midnight.

Kikwang stares at Dongwoon. “Sorry, was this a bad time?”

Dongwoon’s eyes fly up to look at Kikwang. He looks worried. Dongwoon shakes his head. “No. I just had a busy day.” He quickly thinks of something to change the topic. “So, why’d you want to become a doctor?”

Kikwang scrunches his face in thought. “I like helping people.”

“Is that it?” Dongwoon asks, raising an eyebrow. Usually, people go into the medical business for the money. Something about getting a bigger incentive out of it than the cost.

Kikwang smiles. “That’s it. I just…like helping people. It feels good when people smile and thank you afterwards.”

As Kikwang continues to talk, Dongwoon isn’t sure if it’s just him or if it’s the bright light in the diner, but he thinks Kikwang looks…pretty. His jet black hair glows almost indigo in the lighting, he’s wearing a faded pink oversized sweatshirt over a pair of sweatpants, he’s sitting cross-legged in the booth, his sneakers kicked off underneath the table, and Dongwoon can’t help but think _cute_.

He thinks it’d be cute if he kissed Kikwang right here, underneath the fluorescent lights with some bubbly girl group singing in the background.

“You have this _dead_ look in your eyes,” Kikwang suddenly says. “You’ve been staring in space for a couple minutes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dongwoon says.

Kikwang doesn’t look convinced, but the waitress comes with the food before he can say anything about it.

//

Dongwoon drops Kikwang off at his apartment at 4. He’s smiling at Dongwoon, sleep creeping just at the edge of his eyes. It seems the Red Bull is beginning to wear off.

“Thanks,” he says with a tired smile. He leans against the doorframe, his arms across his chest.

Dongwoon nods, his hands in his pockets. He never noticed how much shorter Kikwang is until now. He doesn’t know if it’s the sleep creeping up on him, but he kinda wants to wrap Kikwang up in his arms.

Kikwang stares at Dongwoon, his mouth open like he’s about to say something, but he hesitates.

“We should do this again,” he eventually says. “During normal hours.”

“I think I’d like that.” Dongwoon laughs, running his hand through his hair to get the stray strands out of the way. He notices how Kikwang’s eyes follow the movement.

“Well, good night,” Kikwang says, pushing off the doorframe.

“Good night,” Dongwoon replies.

//

Dongwoon keeps finding himself in Kikwang’s apartment. At first, it was just to drop Kikwang off, then he invited Dongwoon in, then Dongwoon began coming by more frequently until it became routine. When he’s not working or in his own apartment, he’s in Kikwang’s.

It’s cozier than his own. Cleaner, too.

“Hey, Dongwoon,” Kikwang says.

Dongwoon looks up from his book at Kikwang. He looks frustrated. “What’s wrong?”

“I need help studying,” Kikwang simply replies.

Dongwoon glances at Kikwang’s textbook, then his notebook. He’s studying the human anatomy. “And you think I can help you? I barely passed physiology back in high school.”

Kikwang shakes his head with an amused smile on his face. “No, I just need you to do something for me.”

“And that is?” Dongwoon asks. He doesn’t know why Kikwang is avoiding the point. He isn’t usually like this.

Kikwang grabs an eyeliner pencil from his desk. “I’m going to label you.”

Dongwoon isn’t sure if he heard correctly, his eyes staring at the pencil in Kikwang’s hand. “Excuse me?”

Kikwang pulls the cap off the eyeliner and places it on his desk. “It’ll help me remember where all the bones are. Visualization helps a lot.”

And, somehow, five minutes later, Dongwoon finds himself standing in front of Kikwang with his shirt off as Kikwang writes down the name of each individual bone on him. He tries not to jump each time Kikwang presses the soft pencil into his skin.

He watches as Kikwang stretches his neck to write on his forehead and jawline. He watches as Kikwang takes his left hand and writes down _carpal_ and _metacarpal_ and _phalanges_. He watches as Kikwang moves up his arm to write _ulna_ and _radius_. He watches as Kikwang brings his hand up to his collarbone. He watches as Kikwang furrows his eyebrows in concentration. He watches Kikwang’s pink lips move silently as he recites the names of the bones.

They’re so close, and Dongwoon thinks that if he leaned forward just a bit, he’d be able to kiss Kikwang.

And Dongwoon does. Because he’s an impulsive idiot.

He leans down, angling just a little bit to catch Kikwang’s lips. They’re softer than anything Dongwoon could have expected. His breath hitches, just the subtlest gasp, but he doesn’t push Dongwoon away. When Dongwoon pulls away, Kikwang’s eyes are wide.

Dongwoon blinks, and like he’s snapped out of a trance, jumps back. He grabs his shirt off Kikwang’s bed, and makes his way to the door. He doesn’t care if he has _frontal cranium_ scribbled on his forehead. He just needs to get _out_.

“S-sorry,” Dongwoon stutters out. He slips his shirt on and just as he’s about to open the door, he feels Kikwang’s hand grab his shoulder, spinning him around.

“Where are you going?” Kikwang asks.

Dongwoon can’t decipher the look in Kikwang’s brown eyes. He doesn’t know what to do. His stomach churns. His heart races, pounding in his ears and blocking out every sound.

Kikwang grabs the collar of Dongwoon’s shirt and pulls him down to kiss him again.

//

In the tail end of spring, Kikwang finds out Dongwoon plays guitar in one of his few visits to Dongwoon’s apartment. He picks it up from its stand and sits back down on the couch beside Dongwoon.

“Do you still play?” Kikwang asks as he brings it into his lap. He strums a couple strings, but they need to be tuned.

“Not really,” Dongwoon replies. He puts the drinks on a side table and sits next to Kikwang. “I was in a band back during my first few years of college. It didn’t really work out. I moved on, but I don’t think the other guys really let it go.”

Kikwang puts the guitar in Dongwoon’s hands. “ _Can_ you still play?”

Dongwoon scoffs as he begins tuning the guitar. It’s almost automatic to him, the way his body wraps around the guitar, how his fingers rest on the strings. He still has callouses on his fingertips, old but still familiar. The kind that will never fade completely.

“Is that seriously a question you have to ask?” Dongwoon asks, giving Kikwang a sly grin.

“Alright, _Jimi Hendrix_ , show me,” Kikwang says with a challenging smile.

Dongwoon takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what to sing. He eventually settles on an original song by the band.

When he finishes, he takes a deep breath. He can’t remember the last time he actually sang, but he’s pretty sure it wasn’t good. He looks at Kikwang and sees stars in his eyes.

“What’s that look for?” Dongwoon asks. He tries to sound nonchalant, but his heart beats wildly in his chest.

“That was so cute,” Kikwang replies quietly. “If you were still in a band, I’d be your number one fan.”

Dongwoon laughs, but he feels his cheeks flood with heat.

//

As the weeks go by, Kikwang slowly gathers piece after piece of Dongwoon’s heart and holds it tightly in his hands. He shows Dongwoon what it means to be _alive_ again with a smile on his lips and a laugh bubbling from his chest.

Dongwoon finds himself swept away with the force of a raging ocean, carried out to the middle of nowhere, engulfed entirely by everything Kikwang. 

Dongwoon finds that he doesn’t mind.

//

Kikwang drops a key into Dongwoon’s hand. He’s smiling.

Dongwoon holds the key up to his face. A keychain of a red flower dangles beside it.

“What’s this?” Dongwoon asks, but he has a hunch.

“Keys to my apartment,” Kikwang replies. “You’re welcome anytime.”

Dongwoon’s hand tightens around the keys.

He figures it’s a fair exchange.

//

Rain pelts against the balcony door, sounding like tiny footsteps on the glass. The power went out over an hour ago and hasn’t been turned on yet. His living room smells like mangoes and tangerines from the candle he lit on the coffee table. The flame emits a warm glow on Kikwang’s face. His face is softer somehow, blurred by the dancing shadows. 

“Kerouac wrote once that you should never get drunk outside of your own house,” Kikwang says. He takes a swig of wine from the bottle and passes it to Dongwoon. “Pretty wise words if you ask me.”

Dongwoon hums as he tips his head back to drink. He hands the bottle back to Kikwang, but he doesn’t take it.

Dongwoon looks at Kikwang.His eyes are distant, like he’s thinking about something.

“What’s wrong?” Dongwoon asks. He takes another sip of wine.

Kikwang doesn’t reply immediately. He takes a deep breath. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“What do you mean?” Dongwoon asks, placing the bottle on the coffee table.

Kikwang climbs into Dongwoon’s lap, wrapping his arms around Dongwoon’s neck. He leans forward, burying his face into Dongwoon’s nape. He can feel Kikwang’s hot breaths against the tiny hairs on his neck. He brings his hands up to Kikwang’s back.

“Where am I going in life?” Kikwang asks.

Dongwoon’s hands tangle in the soft hairs along Kikwang’s nape. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question? _I’m_ the one in a dead end job.”

Kikwang leans back, his warm palms cupping Dongwoon’s face. His cheeks are pink from the alcohol, his eyes lidded. He’s frowning. “I… What if I’m not meant to become a doctor?”

Dongwoon briefly wonders if the alcohol is talking for Kikwang. “Of course you are. You said it yourself that you love helping people.” He takes Kikwang’s hand in his own and presses his lips to each knuckle.

Kikwang doesn’t say anything, just watches Dongwoon.

“Everything will work out,” Dongwoon says. He lets go of Kikwang’s hand to hold onto his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. He leans up to scatter light kisses along Kikwang’s neck and shoulder. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

Kikwang sighs. His eyes slip closed. “You have a point.”

The next morning, Dongwoon wakes up underneath Kikwang on his couch. The sun is barely rising, gray light spilling from behind the sheer curtains. Dongwoon wraps his arm around Kikwang and closes his eyes again.

//

Kikwang walks into the bar a little after closing time. Dongwoon hears the bells ring on the door. He doesn’t look up from the mixer he’s cleaning and sighs.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed––“

“Guess who got accepted into Seoul National Hospital’s residency program?”

Dongwoon looks up to see Kikwang standing by the entrance with a proud smile on his face. He nearly drops the mixer to the floor as he circles around the counter to wrap Kikwang in his arms, spinning him around the bar.

“I knew you’d make it! God, you were worrying for nothing!” Dongwoon exclaims.

“Oh, gross, your hands are wet!” Kikwang exclaims, but he’s laughing. He presses a kiss to Dongwoon’s temple when he’s set back down on his feet. “I start next week.”

Dongwoon doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sort pride well up in chest at anything in his life before now. He stares at Kikwang, and it feels like home.

“Let me finish cleaning up and we can get something to eat.”

//

Dongwoon walks through the sliding doors of Seoul National Hospital with a paper bag of kimbap rolls and a cardboard cup holder with three cups of coffee in it. It’s 3 AM, and it’s quiet in the lobby save for a TV playing softly in the corner by the waiting area. There isn’t anyone on the floor besides the tired receptionist staring at the TV. He tears his gaze away from the TV to look at Dongwoon and blinks almost lazily.

“Can I help you?” Junhyung asks. He blinks again, tilting his head, as realization hits him. “Oh. It’s just you. Want me to page him you’re here?”

Dongwoon smiles, walking up to the receptionist’s desk and placing one of the coffees in front of Junhyung. He digs around in the paper bag and places a kimbap roll beside the coffee. Dongwoon comes here often enough that he likes to think he and Junhyung have become kinda good friends. After Dongwoon mentioned––in a very offhanded comment––that he used to play in a band, Junhyung has insisted on composing songs for him every now and then. It’s an interesting friendship they have.

“Hey, hyung. It’s fine. I’ll just text him.” Dongwoon takes his phone out of his pocket.

Junhyung hums, taking the coffee into his hands and breathing it in before taking a sip. “Not even the other residents treat me this well. Just you and Kikwang.”

“You’re doing great,” Dongwoon says after he sent a text to Kikwang.

Junhyung takes a sip with a satisfied hum. “I got a new song for you actually. I’ll text you the sheet music and demo later.”

“Nice. I’ll check it out later,” Dongwoon says. He’s learned that Junhyung is nothing short of a genius when it comes to composing songs, and he claims it’s just a hobby.

The elevators to Dongwoon’s right ding, bouncing along the walls up to the hospital’s high ceiling, and Kikwang strolls out, the fatigue clear in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees Dongwoon.

“Hey, Woon, Junhyung,” Kikwang says, greeting Dongwoon with a quick peck on Dongwoon’s lips. Before Dongwoon can even blink, Kikwang is already rummaging through the bag of food. “Ooh, kimbap? I was literally just thinking about that earlier. You’re actually my guardian angel.”

Dongwoon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you not to make a habit of that?”

Kikwang is unwrapping the foil on one of the rolls as he replies, “You know, it only takes 66 days for a habit to form. Tell me, how long have we been dating?”

Dongwoon blinks. “Four years.”

“That’s a little more than 66 days, wouldn’t you say?” Kikwang asks, his mouth full of kimbap and a smug grin on his face.

Has it really already been that long? He thinks about where his life was before he met Kikwang. There's nothing special about being a bartender, but with Kikwang, Dongwoon isn’t sure if he’d have his life going any other way.

“Dongwoon, I can literally see the love gushing out of you and it’s disgusting. I don’t know if the janitor is gonna wanna clean that up,” Junhyung says before sipping his coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something bc i love procrastinating during finals week lmao
> 
> god the last time i wrote a highlight fic they were a bunch of early 20-somethings telling me to take care of their girlfriend wow
> 
> come yell at me on my [tumblr](http://www.paradi-siac.tumblr.com)


End file.
